


can see it in the way you're looking at me

by imaginejolls



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Choking, F/F, Shower Sex, also theyre so distantly related i am choosing to ignore that, bughead is not a thing lol, set post s02e02 i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginejolls/pseuds/imaginejolls
Summary: Cheryl finds she likes it when Betty is scary, unfortunately she can't keep at it for longer than five minutes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i originally wrote this with the intent of it being a short quick hatefuck fic. as of right now i still haven't gotten to the sex. so this might be updated with second chapter, but i am not promising anything.
> 
> also, the bits might not make much sense together as a whole ??, i just wrote as it came to me and it makes sense to me for the bits to be in this order. the show isn't any more consistent than this anyway.

Cheryl is somewhat impressed, though she cannot believe it herself. (Aroused, too, but she will not dwell on that much.) Betty went from a bashful quiet sheep at the back of the room to straight up black mailing her. It must be Veronica’s influence. 

She smiles, sickly sweet, and calls her a stone-cold bitch. Betty looks shameful for a second, maybe the reality settled in at Cheryl’s words. She leaves hurriedly, and Cheryl slowly finishes changing into her everyday clothes. She goes home. 

(That evening she comes thinking about blue eyes clouded with intense emotion and cold hands wrapped around her throat.)

She does what she said she would. And Betty also keeps her word. 

 

Betty waits for her after cheer practice, in the locker room. She’s changed from her uniform already. Her hair is down, unusually. She’s leaning on the lockers, arms crossed in front of herself, clearly uncomfortable. Cheryl strides in confidently, only lifting an eyebrow at the sight of her. 

“What is the problem, Betty?” she asks in a faux sweet voice. 

“Nothing,” she breathes out. “Just...” 

“I don’t have the whole day,” Cheryl interrupts, looking pointedly at her before she strips of her top. 

Betty struggles to avert her eyes, not used to anything remotely close to this. The last time she barged in on half-naked Cheryl, she was too furious to care. Now, she’s hyper aware of every inch of the bare skin. It’s making her uncomfortable. 

“Thank you, is what I wanted to say,” she says quickly, perhaps worried her courage would disappear if she didn’t let it out all at once like that.

“Your hobo boyfriend already thanked me.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Betty frowns, defensive. 

“Whatever.” Cheryl takes off her cheer booty shorts, bending down in the process. “Got anything more to say?” she asks in a mocking tone. She’s obviously had enough of this endeavour. 

“No.”

“Great. Get the hell out.” 

Cheryl wishes Betty could stay scary for more than five minutes. She doesn’t like her like this: anxious, uncertain, small. It lacks the thrill. It’s draining to hold all the power in her hands, dominate like that. She sighs and packs up. 

-

When Cheryl sees Betty waiting for her after their last class, she rolls her eyes. She walks past her and to the lockers. She hears Betty follow. Of course.

“What do you want, Elizabeth?” she wonders after she’s opened her locker and put away the textbooks for the day. 

“I thought we could talk?” Betty’s voice goes up at the end, making her sound unsure. Cheryl hates it. 

“Depends. What about?” She closes the locker with a loud bang. Betty flinches. 

She lowers her voice to a whisper. “About what happened at the river.”

“What about it? It’s been weeks.” 

“I know, but things like that leave impact. Are you okay?” 

“Jesus, Betty, you just can’t pick a side, can you?!”

“What do you mean, Cheryl?” 

“One day you’re black mailing me in the changing room, and the other you’re back to your goody two shoes self? I don’t think you give a shit about me. So, spit it out, Betts.” 

Betty doesn’t want to admit that she’s been having nightmares about it since it happen. However much she dislikes Cheryl, it scared her so much she didn’t know how to cope at first. This town has seen enough death. 

“Please don’t start crying.” Cheryl says, sounding strangely alarmed. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have – it must be hard for you to even think about it.” 

“Get a grip, Cooper,” Cheryl scoffs, walking off. 

“How can you be like that?!” Betty snaps suddenly.

Cheryl turns back to face her, eyebrows up in question. 

“How can you be so nonchalant about the time you almost died?! How can you just continue to live your life as if nothing happened? Do you sleep well at night? Because I don’t! I wake up in cold sweat, terrified, after nightmares of you floating under the ice.” 

Cheryl looks taken aback. Her mouth is slightly gaping, her brows furrowed, as if she was searching for the right reaction to this unexpected confession. 

“Wow,” she exhales. “I didn’t know you cared about me that much.”  
That wasn’t it. Betty heaves a sigh, hand dragging through her hair.

“I may hate you, Cheryl,” she says quietly, “but I do not wish you were dead.” 

She leaves after that. 

-

Betty doesn’t remember why exactly is Cheryl throwing this party. Maybe for no reason at all, as her mother isn’t exactly in position to protest. She’s not even sure why she was invited, but Veronica, Kevin and Archie are all there, so she doesn’t really mind. 

The music is pumping through her body in sync with her heart beat. Unlike Veronica, who is wearing a little black dress, she’s in jeans and a plaid shirt. They’re dancing together until Veronica decides to run off to make out with Archie. 

Cheryl’s dress is red and skin-tight. It draws attention like it’s supposed to be. Betty scowls and regrets her decision to stay sober. To further add to her regrets, Cheryl suddenly appears at her side. She’s smiling. Betty’s stomach tightens. 

“Having fun?” Cheryl asks, in oddly conversational tone.

Betty just sighs. “Leave me alone, Cheryl.” 

“Can’t do. I am here to ask you to play Seven minutes in Heaven with us.” 

Betty thinks something about seven minutes in Hell. “By ask you mean bully me into playing?” 

Cheryl smirks in lieu of an answer, and takes Betty’s hand. She leads her to a room Betty remembers much too well, with two sofas and a coffee table in between them. She manages not to shudder at the flashback of the last time she was asked to play the damn game. 

“Us” turned out to mean two out of three Pussycats, Reggie with some other jocks whose names she doesn’t even attempt to remember, and Cheryl. Josie is given the honour of spinning the empty bottle first. It turns to a boy with hair the colour of a sand, and freckles across his cheeks. They leave. Cheryl starts her 7-minute alarm. Next goes Reggie with Melody.

Betty almost thinks she’ll be safe. That is until Cheryl demands her turn. Betty watches the bottle spin and spin, hypnotizing it. Her hearts sinks when it points to her. 

“Come on,” Cheryl says in a joyful tone, extending her hand once more. Betty doesn’t take it but follows the redhead into the closet. She slides down the door of it, sits on the floor. She leans her head to it, closing her eyes.

“What are we going to do in here for seven minutes?” 

“We’re supposed to kiss, silly,” Cheryl reminds her. 

Betty opens her eyes to look at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me right now?” 

“Those are the rules.” Cheryl’s brows dip down in a frown minutely. 

“As if _you_ are going to play by the rules,” Betty scoffs.

“As if you never thought about kissing me,” Cheryl shoots back. She still standing, so Betty is mostly seeing legs. They’re not bad legs, she just doesn’t like the person these legs attach to.

Betty looks to the ceiling, sighing. “Well, if you insist. Let’s get it over with.” She rises slowly but doesn’t get any closer. 

So it’s Cheryl who steps in. She crowds Betty against the door. Her hands frame Betty’s face in a strangely delicate way. It’s unsettling. Cheryl actually rises to her tiptoes before pressing their mouths together. It’s not sweet or chaste, rather intense and soon messy. Her red lipstick smears as she attempts to deepen the kiss. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Did I overstep?” 

“Yeah, you did. Big time.” Betty’s arms are coming up to curl around her defensively. 

“Sorry. I thought it could be… _fun_.” 

“I’m not interested in you games, Cheryl.” Betty levels her with a stare. Cheryl’s pupils are blown. It must be the dimness of the room. 

“You’re interested in me,” she counters, smirking. 

“That’s not true.” 

“You said you cared about me,” Cheryl brings up. 

“I said I don’t wish you were dead,” Betty hisses, not wanting to raise her voice in case anyone is within the range of hearing. 

Cheryl just pointedly looks at her and finally takes a step away. Betty lets out a breath. Somebody bangs on the door. Their time is over, thank god. Betty bolts.

She dreams of red lipstick and pale legs that just go on forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't figure out a scenario with them all alone that would make sense within the canon, so i settled for the cliché shower sex. kinda sorry about that, but hey, i wrote the sex.

Betty isn’t one to spend too long in the shower. She’s usually in a rush to get somewhere else, to study, or write for the Blue & Gold. It’s Friday, after cheer practice, and she stands in the shower for ages. Her hair is let down from the tight ponytail, stuck to the skin of her back. Her eyes are closed and she has to lean her hands on the cold tiled wall in order not to lose her balance. She thinks everybody else has gone. (She will soon find out just how wrong she is.) 

She doesn’t notice Cheryl _at all_. The hum of the water is too loud for her to hear steps, and she’s stuck inside of her head anyway. So it’s no surprise at all that she shrieks and nearly topples over when she feels cold fingers creeping up her back. 

“Oh my _God_ ,” she pants. She feels her heart thumping against her ribcage in a rapid pace.

“Sorry,” Cheryl says, actually sounding apologetic, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Jesus, Cheryl. What are you doing?” 

“Getting a resolution.” 

Betty doesn’t have time to ask what the hell does she mean by that, before there are lips on her own. She considers fighting for a second, then she gives in.

It feels so wrong. But also, inevitable. Like it _has to_ happen in order for the two of them to move on. From what, Betty isn’t sure. What she knows now is that Cheryl’s mouth is demanding and needy. Betty wraps her arms around Cheryl in a loose embrace, and gives in to the push and pull of the kiss. She lets herself be lead, only occasionally nibbling on Cheryl’s lower lip. 

“I want you to be scary,” Cheryl says, and Betty has no idea what she means. So she tries to push her against the wall, to gain at least a resemblance of control. But Cheryl isn’t having that. 

“Fuck, that’s _cold_ , you dumb -” 

“Don’t call me a cow ever again,” she hisses.

Cheryl smirks, delighted. “Just like this.” 

She then kisses Betty again, and Betty doesn’t hold back this time. She chases Cheryl’s tongue with her own, teasing her long enough until she bites down on her lip so hard it truly _hurts_. Betty moans. She grabs Cheryl’s wrist and forces her hand between her legs. She breaks the kiss to pant harshly. 

The water is beating down on their sides in an unrelenting stream, and Betty wishes this could be happening anywhere else. Unfortunately, she herself realizes this is the only space they have which offers them solitude. She guides Cheryl until there are two fingers inside of her. Betty grinds against them, exhaling through her nose, clawing with her free hand on Cheryl’s shoulder. She leaves 4 red lines across her shoulder blade. 

Cheryl’s nails are long but she is careful enough that it is not painful. She brings her lips to Betty’s neck, nipping at the skin over her pulse point. 

“Like that,” Betty gasps.

When she comes, it is quietly. She leaves four crescent marks on Cheryl’s pale hip. Her own skin is covered in purple-ish marks by then. Betty trembles through her orgasm, but doesn’t lean on Cheryl for support. That’s not what _this_ is, anyway. 

“How do you...” she start to ask once she catches her breath. 

“Normally, I would want your mouth. But,” Cheryl says and reaches for Betty’s hands. She puts one on her lower stomach, and the other she brings to her throat. 

“Oh?” 

“Pressure on the pulse point, not the windpipe,” is all she says. 

Betty almost rolls her eyes. She wraps her fingers around Cheryl’s throat gently at first. She lets the fingers of her other hand slide between Cheryl’s folds, gathering wetness. She only applies pressure to the arteries once she slips inside. She feels Cheryl’s pulse jump excitedly. She’s careful not to choke her for long periods at a time, shifting focus on the fingers buried inside of her cunt when she lets her breathe. 

Cheryl is whimpering and mewling, all little noises that would be even cute if they weren’t hers, Betty guesses. There’s blush in her cheeks and spreading across her chest. It’s sort of pretty. Betty lets go of Cheryl’s neck for a brief moment to brace herself on her shoulder. Cheryl protests, but then Betty leans down to bite at her tits. It makes do for a while, but after a while Cheryl scrambles for her wrist to guide her hand back to her throat. She comes soon after that. 

 

Betty turns off the shower. She momentarily thinks about the huge water bill the school is most likely to receive, but with the amount of students showering after practice, it probably doesn’t matter. She fetches her towel and wraps it loosely around her. Cheryl does the same. They dress in silence. Betty catches a glimpse of the hickeys she’s given Cheryl and she smirks. She herself has some admirable ones stretching down from her neck to her collarbones. 

She holds the door for Cheryl when they’re leaving the school. She rolls her eyes at Betty. 

“Goodbye, Betty Cooper,” she sing-songs.

“Bye, Cheryl.” 

They go their separate ways. Betty feels calm for the first time in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell at me at @imaginejolls on tumblr.com


End file.
